The Witch of the Castle of Glass

Milly stared across the lobby in wonder. When she arrived at work this morning, the lobby was as it has always been. A featureless entrance surrounded by cracked and cloudy glass, with grey tile flooring that had been in disrepair for far too long and the tiny, newly renovated coffee shop tucked away in the corner.

But now, it had transformed into something wonderous. The walkways between each of the towers had flawless black marble flooring, speckled with flakes of gold dust that gave the lobby an ethereal visage. The glass walls and ceilings were flawless, glass so transparent that Milly thought it might have been just open air. Milly could see each of the four terrain types by twirling in a circle, gorgeous feats of nature at their fingertips. Each walkway between the four towers had a single exit point into one of the terrains, and another that led into the inner courtyard, still covered in weeds and the single dead tree.

Most notably, screens like the one Xavier had shown her were stretched along the centre of the walkways, floating in mid-air and covered in text and pictures. Each one had a unique title, such as “Using your inventory” or “Leveling up: Your Path to Success”.

The only thing that remained the same was the coffee shop, its doors shut tight.

Milly struggled to take it all in, feeling like her mind might snap at any moment. Maybe her mind already had. That would explain all this nonsense. She could be laying on the floor of her cubicle right now, foaming at the mouth, while Xavier ranted about video games and Calista thought up creative nicknames for her. And the ambulance would arrive to take her away to an institution where she would…

Her morbid thoughts were interrupted by a small white-haired child who materialized before them. They both fell backwards in shock. She was wearing a flowing white gown and had flowers sprinkled in her hair. Her bright blue eyes were piercing, matching the color of the screens that floated throughout the lobby. She gave them a beaming smile, jumping up and down in excitement.

“Welcome players!” she shouted with joy, sparkles appearing around her like fireworks. “Welcome to the God Contest. A nightmarish death for most of you, but with rewards beyond comprehension for those who emerge victorious.” Her exuberant attitude never faded, saying ‘nightmarish death’ as happily as she said ‘victorious.’ “I am your guide to the world of the God Contest. You may call the collective me Tutoria.”

Xavier snorted with laughter, and Tutoria’s face grew sour, as if she were a child being mocked. Her face scrunched up and she glared at Xavier with a child’s anger.

“It is not nice to mock, Xavier Holloway,” Tutoria scolded, her eyes filling with angry tears.

Xavier continued to laugh until Milly punched him hard in the shoulder. She bent down to eye level with Tutoria. “Sorry, my friend is a jerk,” she said with a smile.

The tears disappeared from Tutoria’s eyes, and she smiled kindly. “Yah, he is. But most believe he will make it far. They do not think you will last very long though.” Tutoria hopped away, dancing clumsily in a circle between the floating screens.

Milly stood staring. She cleared her throat. “Umm…who thinks that?” she asked, not knowing if she wanted an answer.

Tutoria pointed towards the sky, then covered her mouth as if she were holding in a secret. She giggled and continued to dance around.

“Enough of this. Tell us what we need to know Tutoria,” demanded Xavier, “The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can get started.”

“Very well, grouchy man. Over here,” she led them to a series of twelve screens between Tower One and Two, facing towards the beach. Each had a ream of text and an image of a particularly gruesome death of a player.

“You are in the God Contest. The thirteenth God Contest of Humankind, to be precise. These twelve screens give you a summary of each of the previous Contests to help you understand what has led up to this point.”

Milly walked over and started reading the summaries at the top of each one. “Babylon. Theme: The Hunt. Participants: 29,875. Survivors: 0.” There was a picture of a man being torn apart by lions on a grassy plain. Milly shuddered, goosebumps rising on her arm despite the heat streaming through the glass from the beach.

Xavier read the next one. “Pompeii. Theme: Apocalyptic Survival. Participants: 10,102. Survivors: 0. This one has a woman burning alive in lava.” He quickly moved onto the next one. “Machu Pichu. Theme: The Journey. Participants: 20,092. Survivors: 0. A child infected with plague as the picture. Why are there no survivors in any of these?”

“Humankind has proven particularly inept at surviving the final test. Most species only require one or two Contests to achieve victory. So far, your species has failed twelve of them. As I am sure you can understand, this is causing no small number of headaches amongst the creators.”

“But what is the point of the God Contest?” demanded Xavier.

“Data not found.” Tutoria responded. Her dancing stopped and she was suddenly stiff and robotic.

Xavier and Milly stared at her. Tutoria’s eyes were glossed over, her image flickering as if she were a program that had encountered an unexpected error. She stood unmoving, unblinking.

“Umm…Tutoria?” Milly prompted uncertainly.

“Hi, I’m Tutoria,” Tutoria said suddenly, “I am your guide to the world of the God Contest. How may I help you?”

Milly stared at Xavier. What had just happened?

Xavier found his voice first. “Tutoria, tell us about the thirteenth contest. This contest,” he prompted.

Tutoria started moving again, dancing over to another screen separate from the first twelve. It was blank except for the highest-level information.

“The thirteenth contest. Theme: Video Game. Participants: 807. Current survivors: 807. The thirteenth God Contest has been developed by Hephaestus to mimic recent human technology called a ‘video game’, with a focus on the role-playing game variety that emphasizes mechanics focused on character growth, exploration, and survival, as these characteristics are most closely aligned with the fundamental goals of the God Contest. In short, players must survive in this world, both in terms of day-to-day survival and surviving the exploration of this world and accomplishing its primary objectives. Fun fact. This God Contest has the fewest number of participants in the history of the Cycles.”

Milly watched as Xavier grew more excited, diving in with increasingly detailed questions about the mechanics of how the system works. Milly tried to pay attention. She really did. But it was like listening to one of Xavier’s rants, with terms like ‘experience points’ and ‘talent map’ thrown about so often that she suddenly felt as lost as if she were listening to a physics lecture.

She strolled away from Xavier, eyes glancing over the various screens that filled the lobby. It made little sense to her. As she stood in front of the screen entitled ‘You in a Nutshell,’ she wondered why she was not upstairs right now, hiding in her cubicle or freaking out like Calista and the others were. There was no doubt she was scared. But her mind kept coming back to a single thought.

“It’s not like I was really alive before,” she whispered to herself, “What does it matter if I die here or live back there? No one will notice anyway.”

“Well, that’s not a very happy outlook,” said Tutoria, popping into existence next to Milly and causing her to jump again in surprise. Milly’s eyes flickered over to Xavier, still talking with the first version of Tutoria.

“Handy trick,” murmured Milly, her mind still clouded with dark thoughts. Had she taken her medication today? No, it was a gap day. She could really use it right now.

“Thanks, Mildred Persephone Brown,” chimed Tutoria chipperly. “There are over eight hundred players in the thirteenth God Contest, and I have made a copy of myself for each one to help them as the Contest progresses. I am Tutoria #788. You may call be #788 if you wish.”

“Thanks…um…can I just keep calling you Tutoria? I go by Milly. How…how did you get assigned to me? I thought we were the first two to enter the lobby. Why are you not #1 and #2?”

“We are assigned based on your estimated survival odds in the contest relative to your fellow players. The AI Director calculated that you would exit the Contest in 788th place out of 807 participants. That means that the Director believes you will be the 19th person to die. Isn’t that neat!”

It was one too many terrifying exclamations. One too many strange things that had happened today. It was as if a switch inside her flipped, her maximum tolerance for bullshit reached.

“You want a happy outlook?” spat Milly, her face never leaving the screen in front of her, “Fine. Tell your AI Director to go fuck himself. Then tell me, in thirty seconds or less, how this all works.”

“Okey Dokey,” Tutoria replied cheerfully, taking a deep, simulated breath, “The Contest pits you against dangers located across the Arena. The Arena is split into four terrains: Mountain, Plain, Ocean, and Jungle, each with its own challenges, monsters, and rewards. Defeating monsters or completing trials gives you experience, which makes you stronger and lets you select talents to customize your personal approach to the Contest. These screens," said said as she waved her hand and make three appear, “help you along your way. Player profile lets you pick which aspects of yourself to make stronger. Inventory is your own pocket dimension to store your stuff. And so on. You will figure out the rest as you go.”

Tutoria raised her wrist, as if looking at an invisible watch, “All eight hundred and seven players are part of a single team, and you win if you complete the final objectives of the Contest. You will need to discover what those objectives are on your own. You lose the Contest if all participants die. Oh, and I guess everyone who dies along the way also loses, even if the final objective is achieved. So whatever you do, don’t die!” she ended with a high-pitched shout, as if she were a cheerleader at a high school football game.

She stopped, taking a deep breath for dramatic effect, then smiled sweetly. “There! Twenty-seven seconds.”

It took Milly more than triple that time to mentally process everything Tutorial had told her. She wanted to ask more, to dive as deeply into the details as Xavier was doing. But after it all settled in her mind, she only had one thing to say.

“Ok,” Milly muttered, surprising herself. Fear, depression, anger, and self-loathing still warred within her, but it was acceptance and defiance that had found its way to the top of her emotional battlefield.

“Ok? Just…ok?” Tutoria #788 asked, disbelief in her voice, “Players usually need more time to process it all. Some spend an entire day in the lobby. Some never leave. Some kill themselves, or each other. It is all great drama, you see, to watch the players agonize over their unavoidable fate. Your response is…boring. Even Chatty McChatterson over there with Tutoria #3 is more entertaining than you.”

Milly just shrugged. Though Tutoria’s diatribe did reveal more than Tutoria probably had intended. This was a Contest, and what was a Contest without an audience. For a moment she thought of Oracle, the woman behind the green text, and wondered if she was one of them.

Milly still stared at the ‘You in a Nutshell’ screen and whispered, “I wonder who I am?”

Suddenly, a screen opened before her. Her own player screen.

“Hey, you figured out how to open your screens. Congratulations.” Tutoria’s voice had a sarcastic edge to it. “Think and they shall appear. Interact with them the same way.”

Milly read her entry, projected before her.

Mildred Persephone Brown

Player

Level: 1

Specialty: Depression

Strength: 2

Agility: 3

Toughness: 8

Magic: 6

“Mildred Persephone Brown. Player. Specialty: Depression. Level: 1. Strength: 2, Agility: 3, Toughness: 8, Magic: 6. Depression? Really? Tutoria, tell that AI he is a real bastard.”

Tutoria was about to scold her again, when suddenly the word ‘depression’ started to fade away. In its place, the word ‘survivor’ appeared.

“It…changed?” whispered Milly, shocked.

“The thirteenth God Contest is the first ever with a built-in, adaptive, fully automated AI Director. Before this, Contests were meticulously planned over millennia but ultimately static.”

Tutoria saw Milly’s face twist in confusion. “Ok, think of it this way, if that hurts your tiny brain. Before this, Contests might be designed like your Olympics. Or like your reality TV shows. Grand adventures that stretch participants to their utmost limits, but unchanging in their nature and their objectives once the Contests have begun. Unable to adapt to the players individual and collective strengths, alliances, struggles, and victories. They are predictable. But with the AI Director, the Contest adapts to stretch the limits of the players even further. Suddenly, the Olympics might require an expert pole-vaulter to vault onto a burning building and fight off a dragon to win the gold. Even the designers do not know where it will end up.”

“Sounds horrifying,” replied Milly, “And why are you suddenly being so mean to me. You were not like that when we first arrived.”

“That’s the AI Director again,” Tutoria said, grinning, “We change our personalities to better fit the needs of our assigned players.”

“So…I need you to be a snarky little asshole?” Milly asked, scoffing.

“You need someone to be mad at, so you can stop focusing on how scared you are.”

Milly recognized the truth in what Tutoria had said. Tutoria had distracted her so well that her fear had faded into her subconscious. She should be a huddled mess of tears and self-doubt right now.

“Clever,” she said, more appreciative of the depth of Tutoria’s…personality? Programming? Milly did not know what to attribute it to and decided it did not matter.

The elevator dinged and Milly’s mind turned back to their situation. She watched as Xavier rushed over to her just as six new people walked into the lobby. Lawyers from Legal Eagles, judging by their disheveled dress clothes.

“Shit, we wasted too much time here. Come on, Milly. We need to go.” Xavier said, trying to pull her towards the entrance leading to the western prairies.

“Why?” Milly wanted to ask him a hundred questions, but that was the only one that found its way to her voice. It was the only one that mattered now.

Xavier stopped in the doorway, grabbing a half dozen rusted weapons from the stands that lay next to the exit. He opened his Inventory screen and Milly watched in amazement as each weapon vanished as it touched his screen, now represented by a tiny icon in a growing list.

“I plan on being the best Milly. The strongest. The fastest. The one who will survive. That means getting out there first and staying ahead of everyone else. Fall behind in these games, and you are one step closer to the grave.” Xavier replied, as if this was a well-known fact.

“But this is a team contest,” protested Milly, “We win or lose together.”

Xavier scoffed at the notion. “Are you willing to let Calista become stronger than you? Mr. Fredrickson? Mr. Stone, the CEO? These people already walk all over you. Do you think they will treat you differently in this Contest? Strength is everything, Milly. You can only rely on yourself. Fall behind, and you will become the victim of those stronger than you.”

“Then why bring me with you?” Milly asked, following Xavier’s lead, and selecting a variety of weapons for her inventory. “Why bother with me at all?”

“Because you are the only person I trust,” he responded, throwing open the doors and letting the dry prairie air wash over their skin. Xavier took a deep breath and stepped through the door.

With Xavier’s admission in her mind, Milly followed Xavier out of the Castle of Glass.

Into the God Contest.

Into the Unknown.